Eclipsed
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: Everything was supposed to be perfect. Dean/Cas slash. Man-sex. Angst. Fluff. Oneshot. Inspired by/named after the song Eclipsed by Evans Blue.


**Title: **Eclipsed

**Author: **Indigo Night

**Feedback: **Yes please

**Summary:** Everything was supposed to be perfect.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Supernatural or the characters

**Spoilers: **Not really.

**Pairing: **Cas/Dean

**Warnings:** Slash, man-sex (though more emotionally descriptive than physically), fluff, angst.

**Author's Note: **Partially inspired by the song Eclipsed by Evans Blue. It's a beautiful song so you should listen to it. Other than that, I have no excuses. I also have no regrets. Read, Review,

**Enjoy!**

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They did nothing in a rush. Perhaps, at times they wanted to, when the fear and desperation consumed them and they wanted nothing more than to burn in each other's arms, just in case they lost their chance later. But they never acted on it. At first because neither could admit to the desire, but then later once they knew it was mutual and it no longer needed saying, the timing simply wasn't right. Finally, they had simply waited so long, they couldn't waste it in a moment of urgency, it had to be special, it had to be _right._

And so they waited. Sometimes they were certain the right time would never come, that their passion would be contained to smoldering glances and chaste touches forever. But if that was true, it was okay, they decided, because what they had went so much deeper than the physical.

Nevertheless, when the time finally did some, they were eager, relieved, and a little bit nervous.

Things had been quiet for weeks. Heaven had been restored to peace and order, and things on earth were as calm as they ever would be. Sam, who perhaps had felt the strain of impatience even more than they had, had made extremely clear he had plans to be _anywhere_ _else_ for the duration of the night, of even the next couple days if that's what they needed. Before he left he'd even made sure the kitchen was fully stocked with beer and burgers, and taken the liberty of hiding both Dean and Cas' phones. He was determined that absolutely nothing would ruin this.

And then they were alone. After months of war, and fear, and tension, and chastity, the moment had come, and neither of them were quite sure what to do. So they did what was natural.

Dean ate a couple cheeseburgers while he and Cas shared the beer. They talked casually about what they might hunt next. Dean found Spinaltap on TV and insisted that it was absolutely imperative that they watch it, in order to 'further Cas' education on human culture', of course. And slowly, minute by minute, the awkward tension drained away. Because yeah, this was a _big deal_, and yeah, after they did it things would never be the same again, and yeah, that was kind of scary. But it was them, and they were real, and nothing was going to change that.

They somehow ended up settled together on the bed, Cas staring at the screen with the usual intensity he wore when trying very hard to understand something Dean cared about, while Dean was busy staring at Cas. As the movie progressed, ever so subtly the space between them disappeared, their legs got tangled together, and Dean started playing with Cas' hand without even seeming to realize it.

It felt so natural, so right, and before either of them could fully realize it they were both experiencing something unfamiliar to them – happiness.

Absently Dean kissed the back of Castiel's hand, then the palm, then the wrist, and Cas wasn't paying attention to the movie anymore, because Dean was about to teach him something far more interesting and more important.

Dean pressed Cas down onto his back and rolled on top of him. He began to kiss Cas, slow and sweet, but deep and burning, finally letting everything that they had let simmer unacknowledged for so long come out. Cas felt pleasantly like he was drowning under the onslaught of feeling, but he somehow managed to gather himself together enough to turn off the TV with a spare thought; they needed no distractions.

Carefully Dean pried Castiel's lips apart and Cas yielded easily. They'd done this before, but it had never been so intense, so heavy. Dean plundered Cas' mouth, tasting and licking every crevasse, coaxing his tongue into a playful dual and soon Cas was coming undone, moaning and quivering beneath him.

Clothes, Castiel decided, where an obstacle they had no use for. And so he saw to it that their clothes ended up neatly folded on the opposite side of the room. Dean grinned and proceeded to kiss a heated line down his neck.

It was electrifying; the feeling of Dean's skin against his own, sending thousands of tingling messages to his brain that he simply couldn't interpret all at once. He felt so many things he had never felt before, things that he didn't know how to name; things he'd never believed existed. And it was all because of Dean.

Dean was so careful, and so slow, in a way that he had never been before, because this wasn't just sex this was so much _more,_ and he never forgot for even a second that this was Cas' _first time_. He was determined that it would be perfect.

And so even though he wanted nothing more than to plunge himself into that beautiful, tight heat and bury himself in this beautiful creature until there's nothing left of himself, he held back. This wasn't about him, this was about Cas, and about them, and everything they are to each other.

A part of him still found it impossible to believe that this was actually happening. He didn't deserve this, he knew, Cas had already given up so much for him, and now Dean was taking this too. He felt like he was staining Cas, corrupting him. But he knew Cas didn't see it that way, and he knew Cas didn't like him to think things like that, so he shoved them back into the deep recesses of his mind and focused everything he had on making this perfect for Cas.

Cas, for his part, was so absorbed in _feeling_ that it was unlikely he'd have noticed if all the legions of Hell had started tap dancing on the ceiling. All of his senses were being consumed by _Dean_ and he didn't know how anything could be better than this, yet he had this sense that he still needed _more,_ and whatever happened he definitely _never_ wanted this to end.

It wasn't until Dean slowly, carefully, pushed himself all the way inside of Cas, that Cas realized what _more_ was and exactly how much he had wanted it for so long now. He clutched helplessly at the bed beneath him because he had to hold on to something and he was afraid his strength might hurt Dean because everything was just so much he couldn't control himself. He knew something was coming from his mouth but he couldn't focus long enough to tell what; some mixture of breathless animal noises and helpless Enochian pleas for he wasn't even sure what, perhaps.

Whatever it was, it seemed to please Dean because he began to move faster, nibbling on Cas' lower lip and murmuring encouragement.

Dean shifted slightly and suddenly Cas was seeing starbursts behind his eyes and crying out blasphemies that had never before passed his lips in a hoarse voice that shuddered and cracked with pleasure.

A strange fire began to burn in Castiel's gut that both frightened and excited him. It was a pressure, intense and growing stronger with every thrust, every touch Dean gave him. It grew stronger and heavier until it seemed to fill every inch of his skin, so overflow it until he was certain he could no longer contain it and would burst open and shatter into a million pieces.

Dean got their only seconds ahead of him. A hot warmth suddenly filled him as with a final thrust Dean shouted, "Fuck Cas, I love you," and went rigid.

But then Cas lost all awareness as the pressure inside him exploded and everything turned white and he was aware of nothing how every nerve ending in his entire body came alive all at once and waves of passion were flowing and cresting over him, drowning him in sensation.

He had no idea how long it took him to reassemble himself. The first thing he became aware of was that Dean was still shouting. Then he realized Dean was no longer inside of him, was no longer on the bed, and was no longer shouting in pleasure.

Everything snapped back into focus with a sickening clarity. He jerked up, oblivious to his body's protests and fell to his knees beside Dean's prone body.

He gathered the human into his arms, cradling him with the same tenderness he had when he had pull his battered soul from Hell. But it wasn't Hell that had hurt Dean this time.

Dean was crying, in too much pain to even realize it. He was calling for Cas, begging for help, begging to be saved. The pain had short circuited all awareness; he hadn't yet realized what had happened to him. He didn't know that this time Castiel couldn't save him, couldn't fix it.

"Cas…" he sobbed, empty, burnt out eye sockets gazing imploringly up at the angel.

And Castiel was helpless to do anything but sit there in horror at what he had inadvertently done.

He had lost control, and Dean had lost his sight.

It was a mistake that Cas could never take back, never make amends for.

The man that heaven and hell, in all their hate and manipulation, had failed to break, had been destroyed in a single moment by the love of one foolish angel.


End file.
